Magnification: An Enlightenment Addition
by Kate Christie
Summary: "She woke to the sensation of movement, a strong arm banding around her waist, dragging her back against his chest." My A/U version of their trip to the Hamptons. This one is definitely M.
1. Chapter 1

**Enlightenment Addition:**

**Dear readers, I have started a brief addition to "Enlightenment" for Labor Day weekend. is set between the last chapter of "Enlightenment" and the first chapter of my sequel, "Jump," which is several chapters along now. So, read this now, and go find that if you haven't yet!**

**Magnification Chapter One**

"And where is the good Doctor this afternoon?"

"Working today, unfortunately." Kate took her hug and ritual glass of bubbly from Dora at the door and hoped her tone didn't convey her real feelings on the Lanie-less visit. Her best friend had always been Castle's biggest cheerleader, and since they'd been dating, all those yells and pompoms had only been magnified. Besides, this way it wouldn't be two against one in Dora's favor on all the lingerie opinions.

"Well, I'll just have to play devil's advocate on her behalf, then."

And what exactly did she play all the other times Kate had been here? Good grief.

Dora was leading her through the store and down the hall, not even letting her look at what was out in the showroom. Figured. She had already stacked the deck.

"So I have your room all set up—since you said the Hampton's on the phone, I took the liberty of adding some absolutely stunning beachwear to your selection."

"Wait, you have swimsuits?"

"You bet your itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini I do. Though I wouldn't put you in the yellow polka dots. I think I have a nice red and white one in here, though."

Kate had a couple of swimsuits already; of course Castle had already seen her high-fashion stunner.

But she had finally been cajoled into a week-long Hampton's beach vacation with Castle and the family for Labor Day, after enduring months of whining. She supposed she needed more than one swimsuit.

They were almost through the dressing room door when Kate noticed the extra rack in the corner.

"Dora, what is all this?"

"You asked for 'something special' for your vacation. This is the full 'Dora's vacation spectacular'."

The rolling rack was full of every style and color lingerie Kate had ever imagined, and more. And since she had met Dora, her imagination had expanded pretty exuberantly. But there was no way she could buy all of this—not like the day she had brought Rick in with her and walked away with everything she'd tried on… Today she was on her dime.

"Dora, I need one outfit for this vacation, not one for every day."

"I know that, but I've never helped you pack for a vacation with Fresh Start before, so I didn't know what you'd want. I have a feeling you might never have actually gone on a vacation with a gentleman friend, so maybe you're not quite sure either. Therefore, you get the whole kit and caboodle, darlin'."

She was right. The Texan was always right. Damn it.

"Vacations can be a great time to break out of your usual rut—try out somethin' new. So what are you going for, exactly?"

"I'm not really sure."

"Well, see, that's why you're lucky I've got the whole spectrum of hotness covered."

Kate could not suppress the smile, or the eye roll.

Dora started flipping through a set of hangers at one end of the rolling rack. She punctuated each phrase by sliding back a section.

"We have the coy coquette, the demure damsel, the shy savant, oh, or one of my personal favorites, the evil temptress. And then there's this section—now remember, a little kink goes a long way, but if you never dip your toe in the water, you can't expect to get your suit wet."

"Dora!"

She had reached a group of very strappy, sometimes leather, wait—were those actual pearls? And those went where?

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Katie-girl."

Kate's eyebrows climbed as she examined something called a "playsuit" that was severely lacking in the fabric that one might associate with a suit of any kind.

And then it hit her. Dora was dating her father. Oh, she needed to bleach her brain.

She groaned aloud, scrubbed a hand across her eyes.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. If you need some opinions, give me a holler'."

About fifteen bathing suits and twenty lingerie ensembles later, Kate had a very unique but tasteful set to surprise Rick, and a swimsuit that would hopefully drive him completely insane.

Amazingly enough, the lingerie was not as expensive as she had feared. The swimsuit was mildly ridiculous, but not so high that she would be afraid to get in the water.

"Knock knock! You've been in here an awfully long time."

Dora tapped on the door and cracked it open.

"You left me an awful lot of things to try on."

The older woman took that as an invitation to enter, and slipped inside the dressing room.

"Did you make it through them all?"

"Are you kidding? That would take DAYS, Dora. I made it through enough. I found what I need."

Dora crossed to the rack, apparently trying to decipher which items had been tried on and returned to their hangers.

"Did you try on _any_ of the naughty ones?"

"Dora…"

"Fine, fine. Let's see the final picks."

Kate held up the two hangers.

"Now that is a lovely bathing costume. Perfect for teasing him mercilessly in public." She smiled that knowing smile. "And this—" she brushed the openwork lace of the nightie set—"will be the perfect continuation in private. Preferably very private. You did get adventurous—good girl!"

Kate rolled her eyes. Definitely good that Lanie was not in on this.

"Now I'm just gonna throw in a cover-up for the beach. And don't argue, because it's on me. Tell Fresh Start it's my personal gift to him for the weekend."

"Dora, I have things to cover up with already."

"Oh, but I'm gonna guess you don't have one like this. Flirty and light and—the best part—it has _laces_."

On her way out the door she mimed tying a little bow in the air with her fingers and grinned.

"Bring those on out here and I'll ring you up."

Kate followed, as always feeling slightly intimidated by the petite business woman despite all her reasons not to. Somehow she doubted this cover-up would cover much.

Surprisingly, when Dora selected a hanger from the alcove behind the swimsuits, Kate thought the green print overshirt looked fairly tame.

"Now, about that lingerie. Is the whole family joining you on this little trip?"

"Alexis and Martha are going up as soon as Alexis' class lets out on Friday morning, and they'll be there for the long weekend, but Rick and I are staying the week."

Dora was already behind her register, removing tags, when she answered.

"Oh good. May I suggest you not bring this out—" she waved the black lace number "—until Monday night? Knowing the male mind, once he sees you in this, it's all he's going to be able to think about for the foreseeable future."

Kate did her best to keep a straight face at the sage tone Dora always employed when doling out bedroom advice.

"And if I may be so bold, I imagine his place would rival Southfork as far as square footage is concerned. You ought to take advantage of the real estate, if you know what I mean."

"Dora!"

"Well, why have so many lovely rooms if you're not going to have lovely memories to go along with them! And after all, this trip _is_ about becoming the queen of this castle, pun fully intended. So you might as well own it, Katie darlin'."

The smile froze on her face. Queen of the castle—she was living with him in Manhattan. Whatever this place was at the Hamptons, he was probably trying to tell her it was hers as well.

And where exactly did that put them?

They weren't engaged, but they were certainly more than just dating. She refused to believe he would use this weekend to propose. He knew she was nowhere near ready. They hadn't mentioned it in months. And he was acting too normal. The man couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

No, this weekend wasn't about getting married. But it might be about easing her into… something more permanent than dating. Something involving beachfront property.

Queen of the Castle. Interesting.

**# * # * # * #**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Magnification Chapter Two**

He was fiddling with the radio again. Something obnoxious and blaring came on and he hit scan before his hand returned to the gearshift. They were still on the highway—less shifting required.

She was going to murder him in the front seat of his Ferrari, and they hadn't even made it to the Hamptons yet.

"Why won't you let me plug in my iPod again?"

"This is earthy, Beckett. We need to absorb the local flavor. Become one with the people. Breathe in the culture."

"The culture of overheated Manhattanites invading the beach for the last gasp of summer?"

He was apparently undeterred by her pithy sarcasm.

"You don't want to listen to the same tired old playlists on your first real vacation in what, like a decade, do you?"

Ouch. Well, it kinda had been a decade. Damn.

"They are not tired or old and they are my playlists, thank you very much."

She squinted at him through her sunglasses, hair wisps whipping around her face from her French braid.

"I even made a new one titled 'vacation'."

"Let me guess, it includes selections of unusual alternative rock intermixed with punk and the occasional throwback to the nineties."

How did he know this shit about her? There was only one U2 song from the nineties.

"Fine." She reached for the floorboards, dug in her shoulder bag until she snagged one of her ear buds and tugged out the white and silver rectangle. She was untangling the wires when his palm dropped on her inner thigh fingers squeezing.

"Uh uh. No you don't. We are in this together. No surreptitious iPod listening."

"Really Castle? You're putting your foot down about my iPod? We've been in the car less than an hour. We're never going to make it through nine days without killing each other if you're going to play Neurotic Nazi Cruise Director about my taste in music."

"Just humor me on this one. We're almost in range."

The warmth of his palm left her, and he hit scan again. A soft, melodic jazz station filled the speakers.

"Ah… Good old WSHR. You can only get this on the road. The house is too far north, so we've only got it for the next hour or so."

His whole posture relaxed—head leaned back into the headrest, shoulders dropped, fingers unclenched from the steering wheel.

It was really quite soothing; top down, sun shining. She felt herself let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

Well, maybe radio wasn't such a horrible idea. She dropped her iPod back in her bag and covered his hand where he had rested it on his own denim-clad knee.

As they took the cloverleaf from 495 to cross the island toward 27, things turned decidedly more rural. It was amazing to her that only an hour from the city, there was this amount of blue sky and green foliage.

Kate hadn't spent time in the Hamptons, and she had never seen photos of Rick's house, so she just assumed it was a showplace. All she did know was that it was beachfront, from all their stories of stepping off the deck and being practically in the sand. She knew there was a library, and a big one from all accounts, since Alexis had asserted that "most" of their books were up there. If she was honest with herself, Kate was just as excited about that as she was the promise of sun and sand.

Free time came to her rarely. Not by necessity, of course. She'd chosen to ignore all the vacation time on her paycheck printout. She donated some occasionally to wounded officers or new moms. They had good reasons to need the time off. She had certainly gone through her sick leave after she had been shot. But that time never dipped into her vacation days.

She had never felt the need for a vacation, aside from the occasional day to stay in bed and read a book or go for a long ride on her Harley. And she hadn't had a family to cajole her into a trip.

She couldn't pinpoint her reasons for putting Castle off all summer. He had started bugging her about going to the beach almost as soon as they had started dating. Something about vacations made her twitchy. Spending uninterrupted time around other people with no real purpose, no goal—it just didn't sit well. She was already teetering on the edge of Castle overload on the few full weekends they had spent together with nothing to do. He was sweet and wonderful, and the sex was absolutely, mind-blowingly gorgeous, but there were only so many hours in a row one could spend making love, and when he got bored, Rick tended toward clingy.

In the very beginning, she was so enraptured with having him, with loving him, that she'd barely noticed his needy moods—she'd had them, too. They had reassured one another that all of it was real.

But as the summer peaked, and Alexis' move into the dorm at Columbia finally happened, she saw his boredom surfacing more often. It didn't help that Frozen Heat was all but released, and that the promotional events weren't yet in full force.

When Kate had free time, she needed to spend at least some of it alone. Needed to regroup and find herself apart from him. All her insecurities about moving in had been allayed. She loved him. She loved his family. She wasn't going anywhere. But that didn't mean she didn't need some alone time occasionally.

She had taken to going for longer runs on weekends, stopping for a while in the park to read the paper. And she'd booted him out of the loft on a few occasions when she just wanted to yell at him for hovering and twitching. She'd sent Ryan and Esposito paintballing with him one Saturday while she tackled a Patterson novel and took advantage of his rooftop lounge chairs.

In general, they had negotiated all those bumps well. But now, nine days of each other without a case to work or a novel to write—things might get sticky. It was a bit of a crucible, this trip. A test of whether they could coexist, if not peacefully, then at least without loss of life or limb.

She had been musing out the passenger side since they had turned on to 27, looking toward the ocean. When he turned off on a side street in the middle of East Hampton, she figured they must be nearly there. But he surprised her by pulling into a small parking lot at a grocer's.

"Alexis asked me to stop for a couple of things at the market. Apparently, she and mother are making us a feast tonight. You coming?"

She grinned at the switch.

"I should stretch my legs."

The store was not what she'd expected at all. This was no fancy gourmet shot catering to wealthy upper crust city tourists. A round and sleepy Bassett hound was lazing on a rag rug in one sunny corner. He opened one eye and nearly lifted his head at their entrance, but then seemed to think better of it and tacitly deemed them harmless.

Rick shook hands with the man restocking a shelf. Kate would put him in his mid-sixties, with silvering hair and laugh lines a-plenty. He seemed to recognize Rick right away.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Rick. How have you been? And who have you brought to meet me?"

Castle laid the flat of his palm across the middle of her back, rubbed absently up and down as she leaned in to shake the man's hand as well.

"This is Kate. Kate, this is Ethan Stone, owner of this fine establishment."

He was tall, tanned, and lean, sparkling green eyes smiling at her from behind smart-looking glasses. She couldn't help but notice the similarity between Castle's plaid button down and Ethan's. He looked… comfortable. At ease. In his element.

"You told me about this one, didn't you? Last time you were here? Something about not being able to convince the right one to come up?"

Wow. Well, that might deserve to be addressed later this week. Rick was blushing, but Ethan plowed through.

"So what did you have to bribe her with? Doesn't look like the diamonds and pearls type."

She chuckled at that very correct assessment.

"You'd be correct about that, Mr. Stone. No, he didn't have to bribe me. I'm here of my own free will."

"Good for you! You're going to like it up here. And you've got a great tour guide. He'll keep you away from all the tourist traps."

Rick had slipped off to the produce section, seemed to be contemplating avocados.

"You all should check out the wine tasting later this afternoon if you don't have beach plans."

"We might do that. Alexis and mother have dinner plans for us, though, so we may be helping chop and stir."

"Yes, I heard all about it when they were in here last night getting supplies. You're in for a treat!"

Rick had his requested ingredients bagged, and Ethan met him at the register, made quick work of ringing him up and making change. Rick looked over to her with a furrowed brow.

"For some reason, that only makes me worry."

Ethan raised his hands in a gesture of surrender as Rick met her by the door.

"Hey, they started with all the right raw materials at least. I can't be responsible for what they do to my vegetables once they get them home."

"No one can be held responsible for what happens when my mother enters the kitchen with intentions of anything other than refilling her wine glass. Good to see you again."

"Nice to meet you, Kate. I'm sure I'll be seeing you this week."

She smiled and gave him a little wave as they pushed out the door.

"He seems nice. Knows you pretty well."

"We've been shopping here for as long as we've had the house. He watched Alexis grow up in the summers."

It had taken her time to get down to the version of him that was flowing so easily in this place. She wondered for the millionth time what might have been if their wires hadn't been crossed two summers before… But that pointless speculation did no good for either of them.

"That's sweet. I didn't really think…"

"What?"

She needed to tread lightly—didn't want to make him self-conscious.

"You seem very 'you' here."

He reached for her hand, interlaced their fingers as he walked them along the store fronts in an indirect route back to the car.

"This place was always an escape. I could be real here. Alexis' dad. Martha's son. The guy trying to find his daughter's favorite ice cream after she sprained her ankle doing cartwheels in the sand dunes. Ethan ordered it for me, by the way. Always makes sure he has it in stock over the summer."

She bumped his hip, playfulness overtaking her, making her feel younger, less encumbered by her scars. She wanted to turn cartwheels on the beach.

"So, home? Or sightseeing?"

"Your mom and Alexis are only here for the weekend. The sights will keep."

# * # * # * #

**A/N: I'm going to ask you for something, dear readers. The next chapter is M, and I'm going to post it under a separate story with the title "Magnification," RIGHT NOW on FFN and extraordinary lines. ALL of the remaining chapters of this story will be found under that title. I'm letting you know because if you want to continue to receive alert emails about this story, you need to go click on "Magnification" and follow it, or follow me as an author. Posting under the old title is getting to be too tricky, since the original story was only T-rated, with the separate M-chapters, and so I apologize, but it's too confusing. Also, the other story in the "Enlightenment" universe that already has 10+ chapters, is called "Jump," so go click on that one and follow if you are so inclined. Thanks so much for humoring me, and THANK YOU for reviewing, following, favoriting, etc. **

**-Kate**


	3. Chapter 3

**Enlightenment: Magnification Chapter 3**

**Rating: M**

The last few minutes drive east and out of town surprised her. They were passing through park land, a few resorts a mile or so back, when Rick slowed and turned on to Dunes Lane. Winding around to the right, they passed a few huge houses and several private drives, and finally at the end of the cul de sac, he pulled into the last one. The house came into view around a bend in the drive, and Kate's breath caught.

It was absolutely beautiful.

A circular drive pulled up in front of the gray stone two-story with a slate roof and white trim. Ivy and honeysuckle hung thick over trellises along one side of the garage. Rick pulled to a stop in front of the deep blue door with antique hardware.

Her words had abandoned her.

"What do you think?"

She closed her slightly parted lips, swallowed. Tried to find a little snark to back up her words.

"It's a mansion, Rick."

He opened his door as he answered, avoided her eyes. He was nervous.

"It's big, but it's not the biggest one out here, by any stretch of the imagination. I wanted a place to spread out, have friends come and stay, have lots of family around in the summers with Alexis." She heard the defeat in his voice when he talked about family, and she could imagine his reasons for wanting this space.

He was reaching into the back for bags, still ducking her gaze. She stepped out of the car, scanned the grounds.

"Didn't really end up working out that way, in the end. But Alexis used to have friends come up with us in the summers, and it's amazing how five eight-year-old girls can make a place feel small."

For an apartment-raised Manhattanite, this kind of house was unfathomable. He must have bought it when he was still with Meredith, maybe thinking they would have more kids, fill the place to the rafters with them.

Her heart flipped in her chest as her mind conjured up its own version of that image, with dark, curly-haired, green-eyed, mischief-makers wreaking havoc in the yard.

He roused her from her daze, laced his fingers with hers, smiled softly.

"You're smiling."

And so she was.

"It's beautiful. Really beautiful."

He didn't need to know she wasn't talking about the house.

"Come on. I'll give you the full tour."

# * # * # * #

They hadn't managed the full tour right away, because they had been immediately sideline by Alexis and Martha in swimwear, begging them to come out to the pool. And now, after climbing the curving staircase to the second floor, here Kate stood in their bedroom.

The man bought big beds. Stacked mattresses with fluffy pillows and deep blue covers that just made her want to skip the pool entirely in favor of climbing up and drowning privately, with him, right now. She couldn't help it if watching him work a stick shift for three hours made her a little… edgy. And they hadn't had any alone time since Wednesday. And she had sexy lingerie in her bag. Really sexy lingerie.

But no. It was time for family-pool-bonding. Rick had set their suitcases down and headed back to the car for the last of his things—he was such a girl when he packed. But it had given her a moment alone with her thoughts.

She stroked her fingers along the supple, smooth fabric of the cornflower blue comforter, pressed her palm firmly into the mattress, testing it. Her hand sank in. Of course it was another memory foam pillow top soufflé of a bed.

Okay Beckett, focus. Bathing suit. Demure, family-appropriate bathing suit, with a cover up.

She was in the bathroom changing when Rick hauled in his last duffel bag and tapped on the door.

"Almost ready."

"Do I get a sneak peek?"

She saw absolutely none of his chapters of _Frozen Heat_ ahead of time. This left a slightly vindictive taste in her mouth about … things.

"I think the buildup is better without any spoilers, Castle."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "spoilsport" and chuckled as he crossed the room, giving up and cutting his losses she supposed. Moments later, she heard his suitcase unzip.

"So what do you think of the place so far?"

She was adjusting the drawstrings on her shirt, which seemed to be slinking and dripping from every angle of the diaphanous green silk.

"I haven't seen much more than the entryway and the bedroom."

She checked the wall of mirrors and deemed her appearance Alexis-friendly, then exited the bathroom to find a truly magnificent view. Oh, and the blinds were all open, too, showing beach and blue to the horizon in 3 directions.

But what had caught her attention was the bare-chested man by the bed, biceps flexed and bulging as he tied the cord at the waist of his swim trunks.

"But I'm really liking what I've seen so far…"

Bright white light behind him, he looked so devilishly angelic when he found her eyes that she had to take a breath to keep herself on balance. He was the one catching his breath, then, as she sauntered across the smooth hardwood floor closing the distance between them.

"Lemme guess. You want to see more in order to formulate an accurate opinion?"

And there was that rakish smile that sent tingles up her spine. Oh, she wanted. She definitely wanted.

"Mmm hmm."

Despite the flush creeping up her chest, pinking her neck and cheeks, she was doing an admirable job of keeping it together as she encroached on his personal space. She kept just enough distance between them to force him to close it himself.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

His fingers toyed with one of the silk strings dangling from her hip, drew light lazy circles on the skin through the soft fabric.

The connection was at once electric, and desire, sweet and sure, shot through her veins. Pores prickled and awareness blossomed with the heat of his fingertips barely brushing through her clothes.

Her hands were on him in an instant, undoing the tie he'd just done up at his own waist. He was leaning in, flexing chest sliding against hers, hands skimming so lightly, loosening every knot and cord they encountered as he mapped her body through the silk.

From the fog of lust, the heady drunken fuzz that was his nearness, she found one coherent though.

"Fast, Rick. We have to be fast, because they're down—Oh…"

His lips found that lovely spot at the angle of her jaw, and the turgid tip of his tongue was getting involved, and… _God_, she needed to be naked _right now_.

Those nimble fingers had loosened all the right bits of her cover-up and were already skirting over her ribcage, sliding it up and over her head. Crowded back by the advance of his body, the press of his thighs, she backed toward the bed.

Eyes sweeping down, he devoured the sight of her in her swimsuit. It was a simple one-piece, black and sleek, but by the way his eyes darkened, he seemed to appreciate the subtlety. Or maybe he had noticed her nipples standing unabashedly at attention beneath the supple spandex. His voice came out a full octave lower, with an edge so rough she felt it vibrate against her ribs.

"Remind me to ogle you by the pool later."

And then the light, teasing touches were gone, replaced by seeking, self-assured strokes, insinuating between her suit and skin. He peeled the tight layer away, stretched it over the swell of her hips, let it drop to the floor at her feet as he inched closer, hovered his hands at her waist.

His lips brushed the sensitive shell of her ear, and that voice, that tone that dripped desire and heat and raw, unadulterated sex, bathed her with his soft words.

"If you walk around in things like that, I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you."

Those warm, wide palms encased the narrow sweep of her waist. She wasn't sure if it was a threat or a promise. Either way, she grinned into the matching curve of his jaw and palmed the prominent bulge in his swim trunks.

"Maybe we need to find you a cover-up, too."

The solid wall of his body tense with arousal backed her up against the edge of the mattress. The force of the movement startled her, and her knees buckled, but she didn't have far to go—the bed was so high she barely sank, could just lean into its softness.

Tiring of the swath of fabric still covering him, she disposed of his shorts decisively. But before she could even hoist herself up, slide back to sit on the mattress, he was parting her knees with his own, gripping the curve of her spine with his flexing fingers, bending her backward, setting upon her breasts with lips and teeth and tongue.

One hand traced around her hip, slid between them, fingers separating her folds. Warm breath puffed out against her ribs beneath the curve of her flesh, forcing her already tight nipple to harden painfully.

"You're so wet." She cried out when he slid those fingers inside, curled the pads forward, pressed relentlessly right where she needed him. "Did I do this to you, standing in our bedroom in a bathing suit?"

Breathy and awestruck, he circled his thumb through her moisture and then over her clit, brushed with just enough rough, exquisite pressure. Her muscles quaked around him, and she thought she might come apart right then, but somehow she held on, dug her nails into his deltoids, bunched from the strain of pleasuring her and pinning her to the bed.

When she let out a desperate, whispered plea for him to be inside her, he abandoned her center and wrapped a hand behind her knee, lifted it up before readjusting his weight and hauling her other leg up as well. He spread them wide to accommodate his hips, and she fought with gravity to stay perched on the edge of the bed. Her heels finally found purchase on the bed frame, gave her the smallest increment of leverage for what she knew was coming next.

Bending just enough to line up with her entrance, he looked down as he pressed against her. When he didn't immediately move, didn't fill her fast and firm, a whimper escaped from the back of her throat. He could make her beg—that's how much she craved the feel of him splaying her wide, rocking against her.

She rocked her pelvis toward him, seeking more, faster, deeper, and his control seemed to break.

His hips shoved sharply forward and up, and _fuck_, she was so full that her muscles clenched reflexively around him at the invasion. He dragged back out, pulling every last fluttering ripple of pleasure out of her with the measured movement, the negative space between their bodies calling to be filled. Then with a rough snap of his hips he wedged himself up and into her again, rutting into her sweet spot so perfectly that her thoughts and her words got lost in the sharp shock of pleasure.

One idea swam up to the shimmering surface and she whispered it roughly into his skin.

"Again."

A low growl vibrated through his ribs and he complied, driving relentlessly into her. He was almost frantic, swirling up in the lust, and he was pulling her along with him. She was losing focus, couldn't keep up with his pace, felt her heel slip and her tenuous grip on her control falter. But his fingers clutched at her calf before she could fall, bent her knee and pressed her leg up until her thigh was wedged against her side.

And then he was pulling out, the loss making her gasp, and lifting her hips, sliding her back on the bed, climbing up with her until his knees found purchase. He sat back, crouched between her trembling, limber thighs, kept himself almost upright as he filled her again.

The sheer joy of the movement forced her breath from her body in a silent curse.

The sweet slide inside her and the jolt when his hips made contact sent her reeling. Arching her back, she reveled in the feel of him, gave in to the lurid instinct to merge, hot and wanting, pressed tight to the man who was simultaneously splitting her apart and the only thing holding her together.

He finally leaned forward, covered her with his body, took her up in his arms and pulled her against his chest, still riding her with abandon. And all she could do was hold on, dig her nails into the clenching muscles of his ass as he ground against her, to pull him closer, deeper, and _oh_ she was going to—

She let out a gasp when the first wave of her release took her, clenched her thighs tight around his hips, bit down on his skin just below his collarbone to keep from crying out.

He sobbed out her name, and she felt him let go, pulsing, hot and slick in time with her.

Collapsing in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs and huffing breath, one of them chuckled. After the fact, she wasn't sure which one had started it, but in seconds they had both dissolved into silly, sated, endorphin-soaked laughter. She was the first to catch her breath, nudge out from under the weight of his body to nuzzle the curve of his cheek, pink and bright, lit by the sunny window dripping light where they lay.

"I think we christened the bed."

Sparkling eyes teased back, bright and blue to match everything in this magical place.

"One room down, nine more to go. Ten, if you count the laundry room."

"Oh, the laundry room totally counts. Don't you remember that day we got caught in the rain and your dryer—"

He stopped her words with his lips, kissed her fiercely, pulled away with a parting swipe to her swollen lower lip.

"I could live a thousand years and never, ever forget that dryer."

Reluctantly, she remembered the redheads, who had nearly caught them that day as well.

"We should probably get dressed and get out to the pool. They're totally going to know what we've been doing."

He grinned as he kissed down her neck, trailed the tip of his nose gently between her breasts, smiled against her spent and aching abs.

"Not if we shower first."

It was a giant shower, with steam, and a bench. She'd given it an appraising inspection while she was changing clothes. She sat up, shoved lightly against his chest until he slid down to stand at the foot of the bed.

"If we get in that shower together—"

He passed her his hand to help her up.

"I will be a perfect gentleman."

She smacked his bum as she walked away toward the bathroom.

"God I hope not."

Best. Vacation. Ever.

**# * # * # * # **

**Readers, thank you all for finding this story. I started "Enlightenment" months ago, then added a new bit last week, but I had some confused readers and decided to post as a separate story. If you are confused, this is the second part in chronological order, which goes:**

**Enlightenment/Enlightenment Extra (M chapters)**

**Magnification**

**Jump/Jump Journal (M chapters)**

**There are a couple more chapters in this installment, even though Labor Day weekend is nearly over in the US. Keep an eye out—they should be up this week. **

**Thanks always for the lovely reviews, the follows, the favorites. I appreciate them all so much.**

**Twitter: Kate_Christie_**

**Tumblr: KathrynChristie**

**Extraordinary Lines dot com**


	4. Chapter 4

**Enlightenment: Magnification Chapter Four**

**Preface: This is chapter 4 in the "Enlightenment" addition, "Magnification." If you have not read anything in that A/U universe, may I suggest you start with "Enlightenment" and "Enlightenment Extra" (the M-rated chapters) here on FFN, or find them all put together on the Castle fanfic archive in the "E" section: thecastlearchive dot blogspot dot com. "Magnification" comes next, and the chapter immediately preceding this one left our favorite couple with a serious case of afterglow after arriving at the Hamptons for a Labor Day vacation.**

**# * # * # * #**

**And we could feel the heat of a thousand voices telling us which way to go.  
And we cried out "is there no escape from the words that plague me so?"  
And we were drawn to the rhythm,  
Drawn to the rhythm of the sea.**

**Sarah McLachlan, "Drawn to the Rhythm," **_**Solace**_**, Arista Records, 1991.  
No copyright infringement intended.**

Kate could get used to taking vacations if they all went like this. The steady breeze off the water kicked up the corner of her page as she lifted her hand to turn it. The sun was brilliant, making the water startlingly blue. An occasional cloud drifted on the horizon, but mostly they were under unbroken azure, and the waves rolling in provided white noise as a backdrop to the CCR on her iPod.

The three women must have made quite the picture, laid out sunning in suits and dark glasses with their books in their beach chairs, lined up neatly in the sand.

It was warm enough that the wind didn't quite keep the occasional bead of sweat at bay, and one collected and trickled down Kate's chest, slipped under her suit and drew a slick, ticklish line between her breasts. Her mind flashed to their bedroom after midnight the night before, the moon providing the only illumination, when a nearly identical trail of perspiration had been retraced by Castle's roving tongue.

As she felt a tingle of arousal resurface, she took a deep breath to tamp it down. It was early afternoon. She was not allowed to want him until at least after dinner. Amazing what rest and relaxation could do for an already-healthy libido…

"I don't know about you, ladies, but I think I'm ready for some of that lemonade we made this morning. Shall I bring some out?"

Yes. Lemonade. Not sex. Cold drink now, sex later. Much later.

"Gran, that's the best idea you've had all weekend."

Alexis didn't need to remind them of the somewhat less brilliant plan her grandmother had hatched earlier that weekend—switching out the regular coffee for decaf when she had stocked up the kitchen. When she and Castle had emerged from their bedroom earlier this morning, desperately seeking their usual hit of caffeine, they met with Martha's bag of decaf beans. A well-placed eyebrow raise drew an emphatic excuse from the drama queen.

"Vacation is a time to relax—not to get all antsy and wired on caffeine."

Right.

Kate usually tried to suppress her rare impulses to voice hostile criticism toward Rick's mother, but Martha had borne the brunt of the full Beckett death glare—the decaffeinated version.

Rick had wordlessly donned shoes and trekked to the market, and Kate had busied herself with breaking eggs. And scrambling them. Possibly more forcibly than necessary.

But she smiled at the memory now, since the replacement coffee had been some incredible locally-roasted blend that had spoiled her for life. After one taste, she swore she would order all her beans from the grocer in the Hamptons. Wow, and didn't she sound like a certain millionaire she was sharing an apartment with all of a sudden?

Martha rose from her lounge chair now, tucked her bookmark between the pages of her paperback, re-adjusted her nearly-fluorescent purple cover-up, and slipped on her flip-flops.

"Be back in a jiffy."

Pulled back into the moment, Kate blinked as the cover of Alexis' hardback flashed in the sun as it closed. Kate thought it was something for her lit class, which was the first one the freshman started with on Tuesday. The young lady in question let out a sigh, staring off at the waves, but still kept silent, albeit rather loudly.

Kate didn't look up from her novel, but she did fish the bookmark from the back cover as she spoke.

"Despite what your dad says, I'm not a mind reader."

Alexis turned in her chair, set the book in the sand.

"Sorry. I just feel bad interrupting. You look so relaxed—I know you don't do the vacation thing much. It's nothing. I'm being silly."

"I seriously doubt that. Come one, out with whatever it is."

She closed her book and turned her full attention to the redhead, whose eyes shifted uncomfortably from a point on the horizon to Kate's shoulder and back.

"There's this guy in my dorm."

Oh boy. Here we go. Kate was not sure she was ready for a sex talk with Castle's daughter. Wasn't this something she should be asking Martha? But Kate remembered her own offer to talk to Alexis about anything, tried to school her features. She just hoped the girl had kept her head on her shoulders.

"Okay, what's his name?"

"Geoff. And he's really smart—an engineer—a chemical engineer. He's a freshman, from Annapolis, he lives upstairs, and we were all comparing schedules, and we're going to be in a class together, and he kind of asked if I want to study together, but I'm in college now and I don't know if that actually means study or make out."

She paused to breathe, thankfully, because she'd been turning slightly bluish. And gosh, this was so much better than Kate had feared. This she could handle.

With her best conspiratorial smile, she engaged the teenager.

"Is he cute?"

Alexis leaned in, let the corners of her mouth twitch up as she looked self-consciously toward the water, then down at her book in the sand.

"In a geeky sort of way. He has glasses, and he's tall, and he has this really witty sense of humor. He makes bad puns. Sort of reminds me of Dad." She paused, looked Kate square in the eye. "But I don't think I should be dating. I just got there, and we haven't even started classes yet, and I don't have time for a boyfriend with premed, and I'm so not ready for sex or a serious relationship…"

Everything was tumbling out again, words tripping over one another. Kate had to interrupt her just to stop the flow.

"Alexis, breathe. Don't you think you might be blowing this a little out of proportion? He didn't propose marriage. He asked you to study chemistry." Though now that she thought about it, there was some subtle subtext there…

"So you think I should go? Take it at face value? Nothing is simple anymore. There are so many expectations, and it's like it's all in a secret code…"

Kate took her hands, squeezed gently to make sure she had her attention.

"Even if you don't know the code, you know yourself. You are one of the most self-aware women I have ever met, and you're eighteen years old. You're certainly more put together than I was during most of college." The girl's face fell almost imperceptibly. It hadn't been Kate's intention to bring up her own situation, what forced her to grow up, and fall apart, so young. So she plowed on through.

"You're capable of saying you aren't comfortable with something. And you can meet him in the library or a common room. Or even outside on the lawn—it's gorgeous weather still. He's a freshman just like you. I'm frankly sort of impressed with any guy who would have the guts to ask you to study together the first week of school."

"Why?"

"Because you're brilliant, and you're gorgeous, and if that weren't enough, your last name is 'Castle.'"

She knew the moment she had said it that she shouldn't have. How stupid—making her self-conscious about her famous name. But then again, Alexis was self-aware, and she should have it in the back of her mind.

"Huh. I hadn't thought about my name. Maybe he's not a mystery reader? And besides, I'm not brilliant or gorgeous. I worked hard, and I'm not tall or sexy or athletic or…"

"Alexis, you are you, and any boy at Columbia should count himself lucky if you speak to him, much less study with him."

Already pink-cheeked, Alexis blushed scarlet and dropped her eyes.

"That's really nice of you to say." Smiling slightly, she looked back up shyly. "I guess I'll give it a try." Kate felt her grip tighten just before she let go. "And thank you. You're good at this advice thing."

Warmth bubbled up in Kate's chest, remembering how it had felt when she last had someone to confide in about a crush without risk of judgment, to tell her silly insecurities to. Her mind flashed to Lanie, but there was something different about telling a girlfriend—something about perspective. She thought mostly of her mom, of leaving for school all the way across the country, of long phone conversations from the hallway of her dorm. But then she remembered a string of pearls, and a Southern drawl, and some of the best advice she'd had in a long while. Kate was lucky to have found some tiny reflection of her mother, a petite, Texan ghost in a dressing room mirror, a new friend. And maybe, just maybe, she could be that for Alexis.

"Of course. I told you, you can talk to me about anything."

Martha and Rick had appeared in the distance, carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher with a cooler of ice.

"How are my ladies this afternoon?"

He set the cooler down between their chairs and leaned in to kiss his daughter on the forehead, turning next to do the same to Kate's.

"Good Dad. Really good. Did you finish your project?"

"Project? I thought you were on a conference call with Paula?"

"I was, but Alexis and I thought of something you might enjoy after dinner, and I had to dig up all the parts."

Intentionally cryptic, he gave her a smug little grin, and sat at Kate's feet in his swim trunks, looking incredibly sexy. Uuuugh. He had to be intentionally flexing his biceps at her. No one had that kind of definition without at least a little flexing. Kate blinked and removed her eyes from her boyfriend's body.

There was no reason for her to ask about his project. This was a vacation, after all, and she didn't need to plan everything, know every detail. She could go with the flow.

"Care to frolic in the waves with me, Detective?" He turned his most winsome, wicked smile on her, and she swore he flexed again. Damn that man's drool-inducing arms. She pulled it together enough to answer with at least some snark.

"As long as frolicking does not involve getting dunked again."

She'd had a rather chlorinated nose after her first experience with him in the pool the afternoon before.

"I make no promises." He raised an eyebrow.

Alexis piped up at that.

"And I wouldn't trust him even if he did—he's notorious for crossing his fingers when it comes to dunking."

Kate narrowed her eyes conspiratorially at the redhead.

"Good to know."

The water was cool against her feet as they waded out, hand in hand, him splashing through breakers, her gingerly stepping and then leaping over. Finally deep enough to get swamped, she dipped down, gave in to the waves, tugged him down with her. Kate pulled him in close, because even now, with his mother and daughter in plain sight, she couldn't keep form touching him, wanting him close as they played in the water.

She found herself suddenly riding piggyback, limbs slippery but snug around him, lips aligned with his ear.

"No dunking."

"Fine, then, no dunking." He was walking deeper, headed toward another ridge of breakers—likely a sandbar, farther out than she had ventured in her brief dip in the ocean the day before. She gripped his waist a little tighter between her thighs.

"It's getting deep."

Water was lapping at his chest.

"Almost there."

And just as she started seriously considering releasing him in favor of swimming, he stepped up slightly, water sluicing off his back and chest, and they were alone in the middle of the ocean. Or at least it seemed like they were, so far from shore their voices couldn't carry past the noise of the surf, and with no near neighbors out as far.

"See, we didn't drown."

"I didn't say we were going to drown."

"No, but you were thinking it pretty loudly, and you almost bailed out on me."

How did he read her so well when he couldn't even see her face?

"Sometimes you just have to trust me."

"But you didn't know how deep it would be. Sandbars change. You haven't been here in while."

"I brought Alexis out here yesterday afternoon while you were at the pool with Mother."

Oh.

Well.

She hadn't thought…

But of course he wouldn't go dragging her out to sea to drown.

She was an idiot sometimes. But she didn't have to tell him that.

"Well why didn't you _say_ so?"

He gripped her thighs with both hands, making it clear just how strong his hold on her was.

"Because I didn't think I had to justify knowing where the sandbar is on my own beach."

His tone was forcibly neutral, giving away just a hint of disappointment, frustration.

Just then, a giant breaker rolled through. He bounced up deftly, avoided getting jostled, kept her right where she was. Her first reaction had been to clutch tight to his neck, which was maybe the most telling indicator of all.

"You okay?"

She dropped her chin on his shoulder, shut her eyes.

"I'm good. Well, I'm getting better. I hope."

Ribs expanded with his deep breath, pressed against her own chest where she was plastered to his back.

"Yeah, you are."

They were quiet for a while, just being together, watching the blue meet blue on the horizon, riding the waves as they came. After a long pause, he finally spoke again, sounding almost abashed.

"Don't take this the wrong way, promise?"

"No good ever comes from a statement that starts that way."

"Seriously."

"I'm being very serious."

He squeezed her knee, pinching in that one perfect spot that made her squirm. She squeaked in his ear.

"Fine! Okay, okay, go ahead."

Another deep breath. He was really nervous to get this out, whatever it was.

"I'm proud of you."

Something shifted beneath her ribs, caught her breath. And it wasn't resentment for assumed condescension; it was the shock of memory. Her mind flashed back more than a decade, when she came home from Stanford with her very first B at the end of her first semester. Flashed again to Montgomery, patting her on the back when she solved her first case all on her own.

Though she grew up hearing those words all the time, it had been a while, and she wasn't used to them. But maybe she was over-reacting. Maybe this was supposed to be banter.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that. I'm proud of you." He spoke just loud enough to be heard over the waves. "Do you even realize how much you've changed since we started this?"

Definitely deeper than banter.

"I don't know. I guess not?"

God, she had been terrible when this started, hadn't she? She released his hips, swung around through the water to his front, still hanging on around his neck, needing to see his eyes, bluer than all the sky and sea around them.

"Well, let me tell you, you have. You trust me." He settled his hands at the small of her back, just under the surface of the rolling water, and squeezed with his fingertips, smiling with his eyes. "Maybe not all the time with everything, and certainly not with the murder board—you know me too well. But here, and with you, when we're together."

That look of gratitude, shining out so clear and strong, made her want to let everything go. All of her insecurities, her need for control. Give him everything he deserved. But he wasn't finished.

"You let me lead sometimes, even though it still scares you. And you let me take care of you. Well, occasionally." He planted a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose, touched his forehead to hers, breathed out the next words with unguarded wonder. "And you let me love you. I wasn't sure I'd ever get to do that at all, much less out in the open."

Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, mourning how much she had held back, how much she had sobered this man who filled her life with such unrestrained joy. She leaned back, found his eyes again, blinked the moisture away.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to still be doing this. I do trust you—with my life. You know that."

"You just have a reflex, with the little stuff."

She nodded, looked up through her lashes into calm understanding.

"But you're trying."

Nodding again, she let the words spill over.

"And I love you."

Such a sparkle filled his eyes with her words that she couldn't help but kiss him, and he grabbed her again, pulled her in to his chest, solid and warm.

Tongues tangled, bodies tightly pressed, they missed the next breaker entirely. The wave went crashing over, and the two of them went with it, laughing and sputtering as they surfaced, her limbs still clinging tightly to him, letting him find their footing. Because in the end, holding on to this, to them, was worth her letting go.

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**If you are new to this story, thanks for giving it a chance! Drop me a line and let me know what you thought:**

**Twitter: Kate_Christie_**

**Tumblr: KathrynChristie dot tumblr dot com**


	5. Chapter 5

**Enlightenment: Magnification Chapter Five**

She woke to the sensation of movement, a strong arm banding around her waist, dragging her back against his chest. A muffled grunt near her ear was followed in quick succession by warm lips on her neck, slow and a little sloppy, but hitting all the right spots. The room was still cloaked in quiet darkness, meaning it must be early yet. She was still sleep-hazed, dragging her consciousness forcibly from the depths of a few hours slumber.

"Good dream?"

Her voice was a gruff croak in his general direction, over her shoulder. He only hummed in affirmation, his tongue otherwise occupied tracing the curve of her ear. They had stayed up late, but not for their usual reasons. After a backyard cookout complete with s'mores, they had retired to the library—sometimes she seriously felt like this was the mansion in "Clue," except blessedly free of bodies.

But this library doubled as a movie theater, complete with projector and retractable screen, and Castle had set it up in full movie-style, complete with popcorn and every kind of candy Kate could imagine, half of which ended up in the bowl of popcorn that he and Alexis were sharing. Thankfully, Martha liked to keep her movie food groups segregated, so they got along well sharing one end of the sofa and the other tub of popcorn.

His "project" that afternoon had been assembling their feature presentation, a retrospective of home movies set in the Hamptons from the time Alexis could barely walk up through the prior summer. Generally, it had been hilarious, the Castle family hijinks in full force. And how could she complain when she had his arm draped over her shoulders, his head tipped sideways to nudge hers?

There were fully staged Shakespeare plays with every part covered by Castle, Alexis, and Martha, wigs, and swords and funny hats sometimes helping clear up exactly which funny accent belonged to which character.

One especially well-rehearsed performance involved a reenactment of highlights from the Revolutionary War. In honor of the Fourth of July, it was complete with Rick as a wigged General Washington crossing the Delaware (their swimming pool, on a floaty raft, in his swim trunks, propelled by a wading teenage Alexis in a tri-cornered hat), and Martha as, well, Martha, pining for her "husband" perhaps with a bit more wine than would be strictly accurate.

Alexis' portrayal of Paul Revere riding (piggyback on her dad) through the countryside had been particularly moving—it moved Kate to tears of laughter, thanks to Rick's impromptu collapse at the end of the take, flopping on the grass with all four horsey legs up in the air in the backyard, completely exhausted after hauling his gangly thirteen-year-old over hill and dale. Kate had gotten a few handfuls of popcorn tossed at her by the horse in question for making fun, but then she had let out one quite loud and unladylike snort in the midst of a fit of giggles, and all had been forgiven.

Kate was impressed at the dramatic reading of the works of Edgar Allan Poe, dark and spooky and set in this very library—he'd at least gotten two uses out of that Halloween costume, though it was sorely lacking in her feathered friend when they got to "The Raven." That must have been just two years before.

The one recurring theme was the annual sandcastle building competition, which Alexis had assured her would be happening before she and Martha left the next day.

Only one or two moments had given Kate pause. One appearance of Meredith was clearly more brief than her daughter would have liked, though seemingly longer than her ex-husband would have preferred. Gina showed up in surprisingly few shots; one of her in the far background during the sandcastles showed her lounging with a book and dark glasses, paying no attention to the rest of the bunch.

Kate's overall impression had been one of comfortable inclusion. She was being shown these things so she would know their history here. Maybe she was being presumptuous, but she thought it was at least in part because they intended for her to help carry the traditions forward.

They had played Trivial Pursuit until the wee hours, Martha teaming up with her son against Kate and Alexis. Though at first it seemed Rick and his font of random useless knowledge combined with his mother's command of the "Arts and Leisure" category would guarantee victory, it had been the synergism of the bookish reading habits of the two "youngsters," as Alexis' grandmother called them, that helped Kate and Alexis pull off the last-minute win. A very silly victory dance including high-fives and not a small amount of gratuitous chest bumping ensued before Rick had plucked them both up by the waist mid salsa, one under each arm, and hauled them off cackling toward the stairs.

Thankfully he had put them down before he started up, because she'd made plans for his back for the rest of their week together that involved a bed, but certainly not any rest or recuperation. But by the time they had gotten ready for bed, both of them had passed out the moment their heads hit the pillow.

Apparently now Rick was ready to make up for their lost opportunity. With dexterity that belied his usual state of uselessness upon waking, he found the drawstring on her sleep shorts and tugged it loose, then skirted underneath, slid past her underwear, and lightly traced the curve where her thigh met her hip. The moan melted from her lips, and she lifted her leg to drape it backward, over his thigh, opening herself to his touch.

Almost immediately, one thick finger was sheathed inside her, and god that was so perfect, just exactly that. Frustration bubbled up as he almost immediately withdrew, but it receded again when he spread her arousal up over her hardening nub, teasing lightly, giving her just the right friction up and down for a single stroke, and then two. Before she could even vocalize her delight, he was slipping two digits inside, curling them against her sweet spot, and pressing his now-hard length into the crease of her ass. The heel of his hand circled over her center, and she couldn't help rotating her hips into that pressure, making him groan at the counterpoint her movement offered for his own arousal.

It was so good, but it wasn't enough, was never enough when she could feel him, thick and insistent at her back. Impatience rose in a needy sound from the back of her throat, and his hand stilled.

"What Kate? Tell me what you want."

He couldn't expect words from her now. Could he? She tried for a minimalistic approach.

"You."

But apparently that wasn't sufficient. Giving her no indication of intended immediate gratification, he calmly spoke again.

"I'm right here."

Oh, why was he torturing her? Dragging her out of sleep for frustration? She supposed she wasn't above a little verbal foreplay.

"N-n-no. I want you inside me."

He flexed his fingers where they were still buried between her legs.

"I already am."

Pulsing her hips into his hand, she tried to reestablish the rhythm, the _friction_. Her voice was a low growl, nearly unrecognizable to her own ears.

"You know what I mean."

He did this to her, made her desperate, and all their time together, all their mind-blowing, stupor-inducing, ten-fold-better-than-any-porn-movie sex, had spoiled her and left her _wanting_.

"No, Kate. I want you to tell me. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

Implosion was imminent. Fine, if he wanted words, she would give him words.

"I want you on top of me."

Immediately, his fingers left her, only to snag on her thigh, tug her on to her back as he untangled himself from her and settled between her legs. But his weight rested on his hands and knees, keeping his body carefully separated from hers. He looked down with a challenge flashing in the midnight blue of his eyes.

"Castle?"

She tried to reach around him, pull him down on top of her, but he resisted.

"Tell me."

So he was going to push this. She could push back.

"I want your weight on me."

He sank, muscles bulging as he bent his elbows to pin her hips to the bed with his own.

In for a penny, in for a pound. She looked up at him through heavy lids and gave him her best sultry Beckett tone.

"Take off my shirt. Slowly."

His gaze went darker still, and she could see the arousal cresting, flowing out. Never had she doubted that he was a wordsmith, that he enjoyed their bantering wit, but it wasn't until that moment that she realized how much words could turn him on in bed.

His fingers reached for the hem of her tank top, fleetingly fingered the lace stitched around the edge before bunching the fabric as they slid excruciatingly, slowly up her sides. When he reached her ribcage, she lifted both arms above her head, shivered as he ghosted over that ticklish spot under her arms. Losing him for a moment as the fabric blocked her view, she anchored back on his lips, quirked in a cryptic smile.

"Put your hands on me."

And he did, palms laying heavy against her shoulders.

"Lower." He slid them down over her breasts, cupping her warm flesh gently, provoking her softness into firm peaks. Her back curved up, bowing, drawn to his touch. "Yes, oh, god you feel so good." He stilled, stayed just as he was, ever waiting for more instruction from her, it seemed.

"Kiss me, please, Rick."

He did let her put her arms around his neck then, let her pull him down to her mouth.

Applying himself to his task as though it were his only purpose in life, he kissed her. Quietly, maddeningly, teasingly at first, with just a brush of sealed lips tracing the outline of her own, but then a flash of warm, wet tongue snaked out against the seam of her mouth, measured the breadth and depth of her slow smile with curious, tentative strokes, each one making her more impatient to be taken.

How did this man manage to inspire all this wanton neediness? No one had ever made her want to be taken.

When his tongue asserted itself, she gladly parted, let him inside, and he didn't need instructions to find the deepest, darkest corners, to wrap his tongue around hers and let her chase him back into his own slippery depths. And once she was there, she explored, defining edges she might not have outlined before this night's bold assertions.

The feel of his hips grinding down against her thigh snapped her back to her original goal, before his lips had proved such an effective distraction. Her hands tugged on his hair, forced him back so she could speak, continue on this little vocalization exercise of his.

"You're wearing too many clothes. I want to see you. Take them off." His shorts were gone in a flash, and he was naked, obviously fully aroused and maybe a little proud of himself. But he knelt at her hip, waiting patiently.

"Go on. Take them off."

She lifted her hips as his fingers found the waist of her shorts, snagged her underwear at the same time. Sliding them down slowly, he stroked the soft skin of her thighs, her tightening calf muscles, the knob of each ankle. By the time she was naked, every nerve was vibrating with need. How could he be so calm? How could he not be climbing on top of her this very second?

There was no doubt in her mind she could make him lose control, if she was smart about it. Taking a deep breath and curling a half smile onto her swollen, slightly sun-reddened lips, she resolved to not only play along, but also beat him at his own game.

Her knees bent, tucked demurely together, and she drew her legs up, pointed toes trailing along the sheet. Looking him straight in the eye, she upped the ante.

"Rick, I want you to spread my legs."

Unfazed, he dipped one eyebrow, accepted the challenge.

One fingertip circled her knee, dipped to where it met its twin, insinuated in between. His other fingers followed, and then his other hand, and then he was splaying her wide, sliding both hands down her inner thighs as he crawled into the space he had made.

Reaching for him, she wrapped her hand around his length, guided him gently to her center, but instead of lining him up to enter her, she pressed his tip to her clit. Circling the smooth, unyielding flesh through her slick, impatient arousal once, twice, a third time, she released him. Her next words were breathless but clear.

"Tease me, just a little."

Laying forward over her, he took his weight on one hand, wrapped the other around himself and continued her earlier motion, swirling around and over her until she let out a whimper and arched her back, trying to stretch some of the delicious tension from her muscles. He dipped lower, sliding along her slit until she thought he might enter her, put her out of her misery. But he only reversed direction, returned to her nub, barely touching her tip with his, forcing an inhuman noise from deep in her chest.

"Enough, enough. I need you."

"Where do you need me to be?"

That smug, self-satisfied smile should be outlawed. Banned, at least within the confines of their bed.

"Inside me. I need you inside me right now."

Stretching his form over hers and bracketing her upper body with his forearms, he positioned himself at her entrance, and advanced until he had just, only just… just barely… penetrated. Her breath caught when he stopped. The darkness around them made it hard to interpret his eyes, so close to her own as he hovered, but her hands could feel the shiver in his muscles as they strained, fighting the urge to join them wholly, completely. Enough of this.

"More."

He nudged in barely an inch further, but just that stretch, that little expanding, spreading contact, brought on a quiver of her inner muscles.

"Deeper, Castle."

His breath rushed out as he pushed slowly, steadily inside, finally, deliberately completing the fat slide. When their hips met, it still wasn't enough-she felt greedy, needed more of him, all of him.

Pulling her knees up high, she wrapped her own hands around her shins, pulled them tight against her sides, and fuck, that shift plunged him deeper. As her body adjusted, she registered the feral look on Rick's face as he lifted up to hold his weight on his hands again, arms straight and straining. It was more a harsh whisper than actual words when she spoke.

"Move. You've got to move."

Sliding nearly out, he gave an experimental thrust back in, slow and even. He was right where she needed him, his length enough at this angle to nudge deep inside at the end of his stroke. That little shock at the moment of contact triggered her body to clench around him, squeezing down tight as he slid back out. He felt her reaction, she could tell by the sharp exhale as he registered the sensation, and she answered his breath, gasping at the gorgeous pull of one body so aware, so finely tuned, against another.

Oh, this would work. This would definitely work. The only thing she needed was a little more _vibration_. The command came out more as a plea, the sound half-drowned in desire.

"Harder."

Sinking in again, he did push harder, but still with hesitation, like he was afraid to hurt her, afraid to let himself go. No way she was settling for careful handling after all her verbal audacity.

"Faster… do it _harder_, and I'll come for you."

That seemed to be enough, seemed to make whatever control he'd been tapping all night dissolve into his driving desire for completion. He let gravity pull his hips down, allowed his back to bow, used his arms and shoulders to hold him upper body steady as he rock his lower half hard against her.

He filled her, deep and solid, over and over as she gripped him. All of his weight, the heavy force of his hips, fell behind this merging. And god, he held on. He waited her out. Where he found the strength, the stamina, the fortitude, she would never understand, but he did. All she could hear was their panting breath, the sharp slap of slick skin meeting with every thrust.

The impact of his hips against hers stretched her taut flesh, reverberated through her whole body, settled deep in her pelvis. Something happened when they let go like this, when they allowed all their civilized inclinations to dissolve, when they just drove each other up to see how high they could fly.

It was something instinctual—their anatomy fit. She could feel him, with that perfect little curve near his base stretching her entrance every time he slammed inside, and the ridge at his tip dragging exactly against her sweet spot as he pulled out. No one had ever been able to make her body resonate, hum, echo back every advance, every retreat. She heard herself calling out—a tiny, high-pitched noise that couldn't even be called a word, but might have been his name—at the nadir of each heave of his hips. Teetering on the razor edge of release, she spread her legs wider, shifted her angle to give her more purchase against his plunging thrusts. He narrowed his scope, stayed deep, maintained contact with her as he read the escalating pitch of her voice. His brow furrowed in concentration, he cried out, a question, a promise.

"Kate?"

That single syllable spoke volumes. She couldn't help but answer.

"Let go, I want to feel you let go. Come inside me."

A groan ripped from his chest as he crashed down into her, and that sound, that unhinged, unschooled outpouring of lust and completion and possession sent her over. She came hard around him, her whole belly wracked with the spasms—scalp tingling, goosebumps erupting, toes curling, flush flaring, voice screaming but silenced by the sheer magnitude of indulgence erupting. He swelled, expanded, hot and wet and rigid, and her body responded in counterpoint, clinging, accepting, wringing every last drop of his release from his giving, unrelenting flesh.

Every muscle went limp; every thought left her brain.

He collapsed, completely spent, dead weight on her chest and hips.

Her legs fell to the bed, wide open and unashamed at their nakedness, at their continued but sloppy connection. Sheets could be changed. Bliss like this should not be belittled by self-consciousness.

It wasn't until much later, skin cooled and covered with sheets, muscles stretched and curled into their spent, intertwined meshwork, what had become their default over the past months together, that she spoke again, roused them both from the fringes of dreams that didn't venture far from reality.

"What was your dream about?"

"Hm?"

His eyes blinked sleepily open, closed again, his lashes brushing her brow where their faces rested together on the pillow.

"You said you had a good dream just before you woke me up."

She rubbed a hand over his biceps to keep him talking.

"Mm. Yeah. We were building sandcastles."

He shifted his knee to a more comfortable spot between her thighs.

"Sandcastles made you wake me up and ravish me?"

Her fingers reached around, scratched lightly over his back.

"Not exactly."

Her nose tipped up and bumped against his, a grin quirking at her lips.

"You gonna tell me, or do I have to tickle you?"

His eyes shot open briefly at that.

"No! No tickling. Too comfy for tickling."

He tightened his arms around her back, tugged her closer to his chest, smooshing her cheek into the stubble along his jaw line.

"Okay then… "

His breath hadn't yet fallen back into the easy pattern of sleep. He must have been considering his words.

"Wasn't the sandcastles. It was who we were building them with."

Now she really was confused.

"Who was it?"

"Didn't know their names, but they had their mother's eyes."

**# * # * # * # **

**Joy, it only took me two versions to get the "eeeee!" (I take that as the highest form of compliment from my discriminating beta.) :)**

**Not sure what got into me, other than the promise of the ACTUAL HUMPTONS episode this week, and the repeated realization that CASKETT IS HAVING SEX IN CANON. There will be a couple more chapters of this little interlude over the next week or so. If you're coherent enough to write me a review, I'll be truly impressed as well as appreciative. **

**Twitter: kate_christie_**

**Tumblr: kathrynchristie dot tumblr dot com**

**Also, find the prequel to this story, "Enlightenment," in its entirety under "Title Archive" in the "E" section on the Castle Archive: thecastlearchive dot blogspot dot com**


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